“Davidoff?” I gasp, annoyed, I peer through the glass windows to see the burly man.
He’s huge, mid to late forties, and hardened.
Nobody is messing with Davidoff.
“He’s been with the company for many years and is one of Giuliano’s most trusted guards,” Lorenzo replies.
“One of Giuliano’s most trusted guards is code for hit men…. I’m not stupid, Lorenzo. No, that won’t do,” I announce. “I want Antonio back. Thank you.” I try to sound dismissive.
“You have no say in the matter, my darling,” Lorenzo replies calmly. “When are you coming home, your mother and I miss you.”
I frown, that tone…. The one he uses with me. I’ve never noticed it before but it’s fatherly. “Soon.”
“Good, I look forward to it.”
The rain really comes down, it’s torrential outside. “Can you hear that rain?” I ask him.
“Is that what that is? My God, I thought it was a bad line. Go, get out of the weather.”
“Okay.” I smile and I go to say what I always say when we finish our calls and I stop myself.
Why do I tell Lorenzo that I love him?
It’s something that we’ve always done to each other. In fact, I probably tell Lorenzo that I love him more than I tell my mother. It’s always been him who has been my nurturer…not her.
Weird.
“I love you, my darling,” he says.
“You too,” I reply softly as my feelings for him become real and apparent.
“Go. Get home and out of the weather, Davidoff is a good man, you will grow to like him.”
I roll my eyes, unimpressed. “Goodbye.” I hang up and make a run for the car, Davidoff smiles and holds the umbrella over me. “Good afternoon, Miss Ferrara.”
“Hello.” I force a smile and get into the car, he closes the door behind me and gets behind the wheel, as we pull out into the traffic I exhale heavily.
Where are you, Antonio?
I’m sorry.
I open my email, check it again for the tenth time and exhale in exasperation. Damn it, why isn’t he replying?
Dominic is missing in action, I can change the tiles but not to the ones he wanted, they are currently out of stock and won’t fit with the timeline schedule we have with the tilers. He did give me a second option but I would like to clear it with him first. I’ve called him, I’ve emailed him…no answer.
Maybe he’s on vacation?
Giuliano
My pointer finger steeples at my temple as I stare aimlessly at the dance floor in front of me. The air is smoky, the music tantric and while the men at my table chatter and laugh, the gorgeous woman on stage does a seductive striptease.
Carlo smirks up at the stage like a predator. “She’s fucking hot, man,” he mutters under his breath.
I nod, acting impressed.
This is the bachelor life, the one I am accustomed to.
The one I no longer want.
My thoughts are not here, or my surroundings, or the naked women and certainly not with the company I keep.
They are with her…they are always with her.
And damn it, where are these fucking results?
It’s been five days since Francesca took that paternity test, how long can it take? What are they doing, growing a fucking clone from her DNA?
I turn my phone over and glance at the screen.
No missed calls
Val and Alex appear through the crowd and give me a smile and nod as they walk toward our table.
I smile, excited for the first time tonight. The two best friends a man could ever asked for. They’ve been with me since childhood, we grew up together and then I found out who I really was, a Ferrara. They showed their true loyalty, instead of judgement and fear, they stood beside me and showed up for the challenge to become my two right-hand men.
Risking everything for me.
They could have walked away. Turned their backs. Instead, let their hopes and dreams of a normal life trickle down the drain along with mine.
They are loyal, the best of the best.
While Alex has stayed exactly the same and more interested in the running of the staff, Valentino has become a darker version of himself.
Running the logistics of our assets. There are things that he, Carlo and I don’t share with Alex, simply because he just couldn’t handle it, but that’s okay, we can.
We protect him where we can, he doesn’t need to know everything. He is here by default, by being our friend and we respect that.
Me…. I’m different.
I often wonder if I was always this dark. Was it simmering inside me, waiting to come out? If my life hadn’t turned out as it has, would I still have ended up working in organized crime?
Maybe…it feels very natural to be here, but perhaps that’s because it’s in my blood. The men before me have been living like this for decades.
I’m fucked in the head; I already know that. Any man who sleeps with his own sister is. I cannot deny it, I have no regrets.
I am what I am, fuck everyone else.
I truly believe that Valentino would have always had this life, he thrives on the power, the adrenaline, the women, the money, chasing the kill.
He was made for this role in life, the cocaine king of Italy.
With Carlo running the brawn and Valentino running the blow, we can’t lose.
Carlo shuffles over and Valentino and Alex fall into the seat beside me, Val takes out a cigar and puts it between his teeth, he smiles darkly up at the naked woman on stage as he lights it up. “Is she new?” he asks before blowing a thin stream of smoke in the air.
I shrug as my gaze turns toward her, she has long blond hair and a body to die for. Curvy and fuckable. “No idea.” I raise my finger and the scantily dressed waitress appears. “Another round, please.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiles with a nod before disappearing.
We’re in the Viper club, we own this establishment. A bar with live shows and exotic guests, high-end girls are entertaining men upstairs and the place is filled with Ferrara men. This is our turf.
We are safe here, protected.
Val answers his phone, he listens and then frowns. “What do you mean?” He inhales his cigar as he listens and then narrows his eyes. “Since when?” His eyes flick to me and he gives a subtle shake of his head. “Send out a chopper.” He listens again. “And what happened?” He exhales heavily. “Keep me informed.” He hangs up and leans into me, I put my ear to his mouth. “The yacht is missing.”
My eyes meet his, “What time was it due in?”
“Two p.m. this afternoon. They’ve made no contact and their tracking device has just been switched off.”
I glance at my watch, Ten p.m.
Fuck.
I tip my head back and drain my scotch.
Val glares at me as he inhales his cigar, he leans over and whispers the same thing to Carlo and he clenches his jaw before muttering the words, “Someone’s going to fucking die.”
Early morning and the office is abuzz with drama.
Our yacht filled with the blow is missing, there’s been no contact since one p.m. yesterday when it was on track to land at our port. The satellite tracking was turned off about an hour from port yesterday and since then the chopper was unable to trace it. The only explanation could be that the tracking device was switched to another vessel, which traveled the course to throw us off the scent.